Not Once
by the smell of autumn
Summary: Jamal never forgot Latika. Not Once. R&R! No, that does not mean, read and run. Rated T for scenes.
1. Goodbye

**Disclaimer: No, I do not own Slumdog Millionaire, or the book, Q & A's by: Vikas Swarup**

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I looked around, s_he has to be here. She just __**has**__ to!_ I whipped my head around frantically in search of the small girl in the yellow dress. Then I saw her, my best friend, aside from Salim, my brother, there was Latika. My only friend. When we were back in out slum I was not as lonely. Sadly the Muslim religion had its faults. An image flashed through my mind, a fresh image:

_I couldn't understand her. 'What is she yelling? Is it, Salim? Or Jamal? Or just run? Oh, mum! Yell louder!'_ _I thought as she screamed at us. Salim and I quickly scrambled out of the muddy water. Almost out, I turned to her once more as if to say, 'Hurry! Come!' but a man with a stick came up behind her. She must have heard him for she redirected her attention from our safety to her death. The stick came down on her neck, snapping her head back, sending her flying backwards into the brown water. "Come Jamal!" Salim called. I turned, tears threatening to fall. With one deep breath I pulled myself out of the pool and ran after my brother. 'She's gone.' In my head I wept, in my heart I wept. 'You must be strong, Jamal.' I told myself. 'Don't let Salim see you cry.' My bare feet slapped against the dirt as we sped through the streets. 'Be strong.' _

Salim and I found Latika soon after our mother's death. That very night, she became the third musketeer, at least in my mind she did, not in Salim's.

"Latika! Come, come play!" I called to her, a smile upon my face.

"No, Jamal. I think what would be best now is to wait for Salim to give orders." She came and sat beside me though, giving me at least some company. So we waited. We did not have to sit long, for soon Salim came out of the car, arms raised and already shouting.

"Get to work! Do you think this is some type of picnic?!" He called. "Give me the child." He demanded to a boy as he came closer to us.

"Salim." I smiled at him. He turned to me as if surprised I would be here.

"Hey brother, got a problem?" he walked right past me to Latika who was sitting directly behind me. "Here, you can have her today. Keep her crying and that's triple the profit." Latika glared at him.

"I don't want her." She murmured.

"Huh?" He asked leaning closer, still clutching the screaming child.

"She said she doesn't want her." I cut in, also glaring at my elder brother. He smirked and raised an eyebrow.

"Take her or I'll drop her." He threatened. He waited for a few moments and then almost did drop the baby. Latika took her reluctantly and set out for the day.

**…**

I was eight. Salim was eleven. Latika was nine. That was then, this is now. Now, sitting on a train, just barely surviving with Salim, I still haven't forgotten her. Not once. I haven't forgotten the last time I saw her either.

**…**

"Run Jamal! Run!" I heard Salim's cries, and looked over my shoulder to spot Latika. There she was, a stupid smile plastered on her face. Sometimes I just think she's happy just to be with us. Like a family.

I sped up. The rocks were hurting my bare feet once more yet; I had no care, except just to escape. _Why did Salim have to throw that stuff in his face? Why couldn't I just continue singing? I don't think my voice was that bad…_

I was breathing hard through my nose as I almost reached the train. "Run Latika! Faster!" I hollered. I quickly scrambled onto the train and turned to find Salim with an outstretched hand. I took a hold of it and pulled with all my might.

We fell backwards, breathing heavy. Salim then went toward the entrance of the train once more and reached for Latika's hand next.

"Run Latika!" I screamed. Salim had a hold of her hand. It was tight, she was running. He looked up at her face and smiled then let go. He let go. My heart seemed to stop, if only for a moment as I watched her face fall. She turned toward her fate and then back at us. Sadness and confusion written all over her small face. "LATIKA!" Maman and his henchmen were creeping closer and closer. They lifted her up and watched as the train sped away.

**…**

Not once did I forget. Not once.

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**Author's Note: Um, yeah… well, I tried to get this to sound at least ok but I don't know how well that's working out for me… Um, Happy Easter! So here's a fanfic for Slumdog Millionaire. I wasn't second but I was fourth and four is my favorite number. :) Please review. I need some confidence boosters with this one! Even if all you have are negative comments, all I want are reviews.**


	2. Neelima and Latika

**A/N: Hello, sorry it took so long for me to update. I've been working on my other stories, Brighter Than Sunshine and Why Do I Love You? **

**Anyways, hope you enjoy!**

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Life is hard. It always has been and it always will be. When will we discover its secrets? Its beauty? When?

_"You have__ to open your heart, Jamal." Latika had once told me. "Once you open your heart you can then open your eyes and find light, find beauty."_

"Jamal! C'mon! We have more supplies!" Salim called to me from the other side of the train, his curly hair was whipping his face. I slowly got to my feet and made my way toward him. We had grown quite a bit since I last saw Latika.

I was eight, now I'm twelve. Salim was eleven, now he's fifteen.

Once I had caught up to him I glanced at his 'supplies'. It was a box of peanuts, some balloons, and a stuffed animal. From the looks of the animal, it was not new.

"You have resorted to stealing from cribs I see." I stated looking up at him. He snarled at me.

"Shut up and grab yourself a box. You want to eat tonight right?" He stated nasty as ever. Since Maman had favored Salim he had grown bitter. I reluctantly picked up a box and headed toward a window with Salim. We had a routine, because I was lanky and thin, I would crawl through the window and then Salim would lower the boxes with a rope. I would take the box and send the rope back up. Salim would then scramble through the window and we would take out our 'uniforms' and dress in them.

Every day this happened. Salim would steal our goods at night, I preferred not to and to sleep instead.

"Ready, brother?" He called and lowered the box. I quickly got both boxes in and told him to come down. He did and then we both changed into our 'uniforms' and took off into the train, selling the junk we stole.

…

Surprisingly, the person Salim stole the stuffed animal from paid extra for it because her toddler wouldn't stop crying. That night we ate like kings. Well as close to kings as it comes on a train.

Nobody ever questioned our money. That was good too. Salim told me the story to say if they ever did once. But that was long ago and I had forgotten.

There was one thing, person really, that I could never forget. She clouded my mine each and every day, during work, dinner, sleep. I even dreamt about the girl.

Latika.

I wondered where she was, how she was doing, and I shuddered as I thought this, if she was even still alive. What had Maman and his henchmen done to her? Blind her, like that other little boy?

I closed my eyes and inhaled. I tried to rip at the seams of my heart, prying it open. Where was the beauty? I wanted to see it dammit! Where is it?

"Jamal." I snapped my eyes open to look at Salim. Standing next to him was a girl, a very pretty girl of about seventeen. "I've got us some bitches for the night with our extra money. Their fathers were practically throwing them on me." He chuckled as if this was funny. "Yours is over there." He motioned his head to the back of the train. I peered around him and spotted a girl of about thirteen with long dark hair and bright brown eyes.

_**Latika?**_

_Couldn't be._

_**Might be.**_

_It's not._

I sighed and walked over to her.

"Look," she looked up at me, terrified. "I'm not going to sleep with you. Do not worry. What is your name?" I asked as I sat beside her.

"Neelima."

"That's a nice name. Neelima, where are you from?"

"No where important, just a small village…" she trailed off looking down at her hands.

"Listen, did you know a girl named, Latika?" I asked hopeful. There was no way she possibly could.

She shook her head, looking sad. "I am sorry. Was she your lover?" She asked, interested.

"No, just a friend. Are you hungry?" I asked. She nodded fervently. I pulled a roll out of my pocket and handed it to her. "Here."

She took it and then threw her skinny arms around my neck. "Thank you… Um…?"

"Jamal." I supplied

"Thank you Jamal." She ate and we talked aimlessly. After knowing that she indeed did not know Latika, I had grown bored. I listened to her hardships and about her family. She had an older brother and a younger sister. Her father regularly sold them off for money and her mother was dead. Her sister was only eight and was no longer a virgin. It was terrible.

"I should go Neelima. I'll see you again?" I said, standing.

"Where are you getting off?" She asked eager.

"I'm not. I live on the train with my brother, Salim." I stated, shoving my hands in my pockets.

"Oh." She then stood up beside me and wrapped her arms around my neck and then kissed me. I was taken back. I closed my eyes and imagined seeing Latika again. Just seeing her would be wonderful.

…

That night I lost my virginity to Neelima. I cannot say it wasn't worth it. She could kiss amazingly. The only thing was every time I closed my eyes I saw Latika. I couldn't toss her from my head. Even picturing Neelima wouldn't do it.

Little Latika.

…

Not once did I forget. Not once.

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**A/N: Ug. I hope the timing was accurate... Sorry for all the virginity talk. Won't happen much after the time Salim rapes Latika. **

**Thanks for reading! Please review!**

**-Katie**


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